Greater Adventures
by JonsonofFundin
Summary: A few days before setting out on the Quest for Erebor- and young Gimli has some issues with his father's refusal.


'So.'

Gloin gritted his teeth, knowing exactly what was coming next from his young son.

'Gim, n-'

'_But Fili and Kili are!_'

Gloin took in his son, who was standing defiantly in the doorway of the kitchen, hands on his hips, a pout on his face. He smiled a little at this, breaking through the stern, parental scowl he'd adopted; his young son mirrored his mother when he got cross. Gimli, however, didn't find it so amusing and flung himself on a chair at the dinner table, still glaring at his father.

'_So,_- Thorin let Fili and Kili go,' he began again- as if the next course of action was obvious.

Gloin groaned and sat back down, keeping a watchful eye on the stew he was cooking.

'Then that is the king's own business if he lets them go- you're not his son- or nephew,' said Gloin. It would have made it a lot easier if Thorin had dissuaded his young nephews from going on the quest- and had known immediately that once Gimli got wind that they were allowed to go, he would run straight home and ask him if he could, too.

The young dwarf opened and closed his mouth like a fish- his eyes filled with pain at this injustice.

'What if I ask Thorin- what if _the king_ allows me to go!' he finished, smiling in triumph. Gloin rolled his eyes, and got back up to tend to the meal.

'Then Thorin will say exactly the same thing I've said- you're not his, you're mine. And I say you cannot go,' Gloin finished, trying to make it clear that the conversation was over. If Gimli went on any more he would take it to the next highest authority in his eyes: his mother.

'But I can fight- you taught me!' said Gimli imploringly.

'I know you can fight, Gims,' Gloin said, looking over his shoulder. He suppressed a shudder at the image of his young son, back to back with him in the wilderness, wielding his axe to fend off a pack of encircling orcs. He was much too young- and Gloin felt a surge of possessiveness, and anger at Thorin's brashness of allowing his two heirs to come with him. He knew that Dis would have never allowed it at all- and wondered how much Thorin had to beg her and her husband to let them come with him once the two young troublemakers had asked.

This rumination ended up with him not noticing the pot was boiling over, and he cursed as the hot liquid hit his fingers. As he busied himself with trying to find a towel to clean up the spill, there was a loud knock at the door, which echoed through the empty house.

'Mother,' breathed Gimli, and Gloin- with a little gladness- saw the pain in his face. Gloin was the lenient one, allowing him to go off on his own and even a way outside the mountain. She, on the other, had obviously been taking tips from Dori on how to parent. But unfortunately, it was not- as Gloin looked at the clock on the wall, the hour was much too early for her to finish working at the royal citadel.

'Get the door, Gim,' he said- but Gimli was already up and hurrying down the hallway.

It was with a start that Gloin heard Thorin's voice- the velvet tones unmistakable in the stillness of there being only two in the house. Gloin froze in cleaning up, the sodden rag hanging limply as he strained to hear the king's words, but Thorin's unexpected presence had started a new worry within him. Was the dwarf coming to tell him to let Gimli go with him? If that was the case, then Thorin had another thing coming, and without further thought Gloin threw down the cloth and marched up to meet him before he set foot in the kitchen.

He was too late- and nearly ran into Thorin as he crossed the threshold, his travelling cloak pulled around his shoulders haphazardly. Gloin started squarely at him, but bade him to come in and take a seat, which he refused.

'Not tonight Gloin- though, that smells good,' he said, staring longingly at the pot on the stove. Gloin snorted and took a seat at the table, wiping his hands on his dirty apron.

'And to what do I owe this pleasure, Thorin?' he asked politely keeping his face as neutral as possible. He tried to ignore Gimli's grins behind his back.

'Only that I thought you might need a bit of help talking to this one,' he gestured behind him to Gimli, and the young dwarf's face fell instantly.

'But- but what-'

Thorin turned around, his smirk fixed in place, but he laid his hands gently on Gimli's shoulders.

'Look- I know you too well to assume you did not ask to come with us, and I know your father too well to assume he said yes. You need to listen to him, Gim-'

'NO! No, please- I want to come with you,' babbled Gimli, swiping the king's hand off his shoulder and again, placing his hands on his hips. Gloin exhaled in relief at the king's words, but also felt a little guilty that he thought Thorin was here to cause more trouble than he'd already started.

'What did I tell you?' he said, smiling up at Thorin, who was pulling his cloak around him in preparation to leave again.

'I will say no more Gimli. I can guess your father's reasons- you're too young-,' he glared at Gimli, who Gloin knew had just been about to bring up the subject of Thorin's nephews,

'-and Fili and Kili are my own to command. They may have only a few years on you- but trust me when I say I find them ready for this.'

Gloin said nothing at this; whatever was in his mind at this could stay in there for now until they were alone together.

'Will you not stay for the evening meal?' he asked, thinking it awkward that Thorin would come all this way and not have refreshment.

'I need to be off now- there's much to do...' his voice trailed off and Gloin saw his brow furrow. He was truly trying to plan this all by himself, and Gloin felt a tad helpless sitting here and eating his fill with his family.

'Until the morrow,' he said, and clasped hands with the other dwarf.

'Should you need my help, Thorin, I'm always here.'

When Thorin left, Gloin saw his son sitting hunched at the table, his head buried in his arms. He stood, at a loss for what to do.

''S not fair,' came Gimli's muffled voice.

Gloin sat, and put his arms around his son. He tried to scoot away, but Gloin gently held him in place. Thorin had given them three days- then they needed to set out to the Shire, and find this wizard-approved burglar Gloin was sure they did not need. Three days to say goodbye. He drew back, and his heart leapt as he saw tears in the eyes looking up at him.

'I just want a chance to prove myself,' muttered Gimli, wiping his face with the sleeve of his shirt.

Gloin put their heads together, their matching hair and braids blending into one.

'Gimli- trust me when I say this. You will have adventures of your own one day, and I'm sure they'll be greater than this one.'


End file.
